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This morning I was listening to the radio on my drive to work, and they were having people call in and talk about that “person in their lives” that “everyone has” that is a “Debbie Downer”. All of this got me to thinking – I don’t know that anyone in my life is a Debbie Downer. Does this mean that the Debbie Downer is me? I mean, I do complain about my pain quite a bit. Perhaps I should just put on my big girl panties and stop my bitching. My mother would tell me that this is the best course. Just pretend everything is ok until it really is. I could go to my doctor’s appointments and do what I need to do in order to find the root of the problem, but I could keep it to myself. Others don’t need to know my life story. Others don’t need to know what I’m going through. Others don’t need details about what’s wrong. Just put on a happy face for everyone, and then it’ll almost be like everything really is ok. I don’t know. It’s a thought. I actually kind of like it. I’ve never been very good at keeping my emotions bottled in. I’ve always “worn my emotions on my sleeve” so to speak. But I think that with a bit of practice I could do it. I am an actress after all.

Speaking of acting. I had rehearsals that went amazing last night. I feel like I might finally be finding the angst required to play my character. I have no problem finding the angst, but I have a problem finding it and using it on cue. I usually dredge it up about the time the short play is over. I have to figure out a way to bring it forth a bit earlier in the show. My other play that I’m in has rehearsals tonight. I’m working on learning my lines still for it, but hopefully all will go well.

I hope things are going well for all of you. I’ve been reading the Song of Fire and Ice series, and it’s pretty awesome. I’m on book 3, and I have no idea how many books there are, but it’s really good. (This is the series that Game of Thrones comes from, by the way). In any case, I should probably look like I’m working a bit harder, so I guess I’ll write more later.

I had a chiropractor appointment this morning, as this is one of the things I’ve been trying to help deal with the incessant jaw, neck, and back pain (thus causing a lot of general body pain). My pain is usually better in the morning, as my body is rested. In any case, I had to fill out the chart that he provides – circle the part that hurts, rate your pain from 1 to 10, is the pain burning, aching, stabbing, etc. After filling out the chart I was back to my usual cheerful self, and he comes in to examine me. He looked at the chart and seemed floored. He looked at me and asked, “Is this really how you feel this morning?” And I just answered honestly, “Yeah, it’s great, huh?” Now, at this point, you might be wondering what that chart looked like. It was similar to below (because the one I turned in was obviously hand written in his office):

Note that in no spot that I had pain was the pain less than a 5. I think this is because with pain below a 5, my brain dismisses it as merely an annoyance, not something that actually hurts. In any case, this is how most mornings start, with my pain being at a 5 or 6. By the end of the day I’m at an 8-9. I never actually use a 10, because I don’t know what that amount of pain would be, but I use a 9. To me, a 10 means that I’m, like, dead or something. Or I passed out from the pain. Even when I was lying in a hospital bed awaiting an appendectomy (or the diagnoses of such) I didn’t use a 10 to describe my pain. Then it was an 8-9. So, essentially, I’m living with that pain every day, but in a different location. And quite honestly, I think I could deal with it if it weren’t the burning type of pain that makes me feel like my muscles are on fire. Because the burning pain makes me want to crawl somewhere dark and cry and hide… and pray that it stops.

At this point in my day I am at a 7, minimum, with most places feeling around an 8 or so. I’m on the verge of tears at my desk, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through rehearsals tonight. Also, I don’t know how I’m going to manage to cook dinner. The pain is making my depression symptoms worse, so I need these medical experts to figure something out, SOON. In any case, I know that when I fall asleep tonight, for those 7 or so hours, I won’t feel a thing. And that, my friends, is heaven.

Today is a skinny day. For those of you that don’t understand what that means, it means that my clothes are all too big, and I’m feeling skinny, which is a wonderful feeling. I’ve been doing Weight Watchers since April sometime, and I’ve lost about 10 pounds. I’m still a big ole fatty, but I’m thinner than I was. I would love to be able to add exercise to the dieting, but my back pain doesn’t allow that right now. Maybe after my play shows at the end of June, I can add walking to my routine. Right now I’m too busy with chiropractor appointments and rehearsals and work to get much else done.

On another note, I’m supposed to have my lines memorized for one of the plays I’m in by tonight, and I don’t know them. I hope the director isn’t too mad at me. Thing is? I have no desire to learn my lines. I honestly have no desire to even be in the show anymore. But I know that if I quit, I won’t get cast in anything else again for a really long time because directors talk to one another and they’ll tell everyone about how I bailed on them. Even if it is a one act play written by a local playwright that no one’s ever heard of and that really doesn’t make much sense because the characters aren’t developed enough and the play jumps from emotion to emotion with no precursor as to why… well… even if all that, I made a commitment. Unless the good Lord sees fit to put me in the hospital, I’ll do the show. (and I would definitely rather be in the show than the hospital).

I don’t really know what to write about today, but I realize that I haven’t written in a couple of days, so I’m hoping that something will magically come to me. This past weekend I worked in my flower beds and garden for a long time. It was wonderful, until I woke up the next day and my entire body hurt. Chronic pain is no fun. I’ll have a day with less pain than others or a lower number on the “pain scale”, so I take advantage of it, and I get things finished that I’ve been unable to finish previously. Inevitably, every time this happens, I regret all forms of work the next several days. I don’t know what is wrong with my body. Can’t someone out there fix me?

My flower beds and garden look fabulous, though. It makes me smile every time I see them. Below is a sketch that I did in Microsoft Paint of my yard.

The big orange spots are the spots that still need work. I finished the 4 purple sections, which are all “flower beds” this past weekend. I also finished the “Blueberry Bushes” section of the yard. The vegetable garden gets watered and looked at daily, but I also weeded the area this weekend. The purple flower bed in the back yard (the brown lines are the fence) has been a LOT of work. I’m seriously ready to hurt the dogs for continuously digging in it, but that’s the whole reason I put it there. The dogs had dug that area up so much, that there was nothing but dirt. Then every time it rained it was just this HUGE mud hole. So I planted things there to try to 1. contain the mud, and 2. keep the dogs out. But it’s only done the former, and I’m continually having to smack the dogs to get out of the spot. The orange is where we have trees. The former owners decided to make a HUGE “no grass” area around all trees on either side of the sidewalk. I, however, would like to have several different “no grass but mulch instead” areas around the trees, because I like grass. So instead of the entire left side of my yard having almost no grass, I would like it to have more. But right now all of the “no grass” areas are completely filled with WEEDS, and not just any weeds but poison oak and all sorts of other weeds. I sprayed a little over a week ago, but they’re still there. If the weather is nice this next weekend then I’ll get out there and start working on the orange spots. Since most of the right side is finished except for the orange spots, that’s probably where I’ll begin. Then at least half of my yard will look nice. Of course, then they’ll keep driving and see the rest, and all will change.

In other news, I’ve been better since I started back on my appropriate medication. I do wish that I could live a medicine free life, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I am scared for when Hubs and I decide to start a family though. What am I going to do while pregnant and breastfeeding?

A common theme lately in many of the blogs that I read has been depression. It’s really quite amazing how many people in the world suffer from depression. Many of the things I’ve read have been very quick to remind those that suffer from depression that depression lies. It makes you believe things that aren’t true. It whispers ugly words in your mind until you begin to believe it.

As someone who has suffered from depression since my teen years, I understand this completely. Not only does depression lie, but when medicated our minds lie to make us believe perhaps we don’t really need the medication to feel “normal”. After the whisper of how “normal” I can be without my medication, the whisper soon becomes a scream, until I finally believe it. Then about a week later, I realize that I’m not “normal” at all. Depression has hit me again. And not only has it hit, it has begun to break me.

I speak about this as if it’s all in the past, as if it’s not something that I suffer from every day. This is not the case. About twice a year I start to believe the lies of not needing my medication, only to be reminded how untrue that is. This past week has been one of those times. And yesterday I realized how broken I had become. I stopped taking my medication last week sometime. I didn’t do so consciously, I just forgot one night, or I was too lazy to get up and get it. In any case, after a couple days of doing so, I then began to just not care. Obviously I don’t need it if I can go 3 days without it. This is when depression began it’s work. Small whispers in my mind that are always present, whether medicated or not, began to turn into screams and constant rebukes. “You will be a terrible mother one day because your family carries generations of abuse.” “It doesn’t matter if you’ve been losing weight. You are fat. You will always be fat. And even if you aren’t fat, you’re still ugly.” “Look in the mirror. See how ugly you are.” “Your husband will leave you because you aren’t good enough for him.” And so, so many more shouts and screams in the mind. They play on an endless record, over and over. Things that have been put in the past begin to scream into the forefront. A bad relationship from 10 years ago makes me question whether or not my husband thinks I’m dumb and he’ll eventually realize that I am and leave me.

Lucky for me, my husband does love me, and he noticed last night how I was acting. He soon asked if I had been taking my medication, and when I responded no, and cried about how awful of a person I am, rather than rebuke me, he held me and allowed me to cry. He gently reminded me of how important it is to stay on my medication because of my health – not because I’m crazy or because something is wrong with me, but because I am healthier and stronger when I take it. He held me and told me he loves me, and he reminded me that I am good enough for him. He reminded me that he won’t leave me. And he let me cry.

So for those of you that suffer and don’t have someone wonderful in your life like I do, know that others suffer as well. Someone out there knows what you’re going through. Someone out there can help you, and it might even help them to be able to help you. And if nothing else, feel free to write to me.

I got a calendar for my office area. It’s got random ecards on it from someecards.com. I just now got this calendar, and it only came in the mail 3 days ago. With that said, I think they’ve been stalking me for some time. Look at today’s page below:

It’s like they stepped into my world, and they made this page to scream out to others about me. I wonder if I should email them for harassment. Is it harassment if they’ve never actually contacted me, though? I mean, it’s obvious they’re talking about me. Anyone that knows me knows that this is about me. I often walk around dressed as a Viking warrior princess with a spear and leave my mouth open as if constantly screaming obscenities. I also “can create drama out of anything”. Perhaps I should start looking over my shoulder for people from random websites that are obviously stalking me now.

Thanks a lot someecards.com. You’ve now given me one more thing to worry about, because I so obviously needed that.